


The Monster in My Closet

by Fan_by_Proxy, orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Chaptered, Consensual Kink, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Monster!Dean, Other, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Slurs, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-01-26 16:36:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1695119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fan_by_Proxy/pseuds/Fan_by_Proxy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel Novak is just your average runt of the litter.  He's not athletic, he's not popular, and according to his therapist he's "socially maladjusted".  Life for the misfit is as rough as can be...until one night when he discovers the monster in his closet isn't just a leftover childhood nightmare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Night

A clap of thunder shook the house, startling Cas from a sound sleep.  The flash of lightening that followed seemed scarily close; he could smell the ozone burning.  Even worse, something was in the room with him.  Cas snatched the flashlight off his nightstand and trained it on his bookshelf, where he thought the shadows were just too damn dark.  Another boom of thunder rattled the house, causing him to drop the flashlight and cover his ears.  Tears burned under his lids and he tried to count to ten like the therapist said to do but it wasn’t doing anything for the terror.  He opened his mouth to call for his mother, but a hot palm pressed against his mouth.  Cas’ eyes flew open, breath hitching in his chest. 

Two bright green eyes stared back at him.  Another flash of lightening only gave him pieces that didn’t fit; a square jaw and ram’s horns and long curved nails.  “ _Don’t_  scream.  Not want hurt you, but you scream, I hit you, make you sleep again.  Ok?   _Don’t_  scream.” The voice was deep and gravelly and somehow held Cas’ attention better than the storm raging overhead.  “I put hand down now.   _Don’t_  scream, ok?”

Cas gave a slow, shaky nod.  The hand came away from his mouth, and the thing settled on the edge of his bed, a surprisingly solid weight.  “ _Who are you and what are you doing in my room?”_   he whispered.

“I Deanon.  Monster in closet; thought you were sleeping, so I come for book.”

“Deanon?  You mean…like demon?” Cas reached for the lamp, and was relieved to find the storm hadn’t taken out the power. 

 The thing flinched away from the light, shielding its eyes with one hand.  It had a rather normal hand, save for the nails which were well past the fingertips and dull black.  “No.  I monster, not demon.  Different things.”

“Is the light bothering you?” Cas asked slowly, flinching at the thunder.

“Is very bright.”

Cas made himself turn the light out, despite the storm.  It was just as well; if Michael or their parents saw a light under his door at this hour, he’d get a lecture.  “I’m sorry…” he trailed off as the ‘monster’ turned glowing green eyes on him again.  There was something familiar in the shape and the color, but Cas couldn’t really recall anything concrete.  Just vague memories of moving shadows and night terrors.  “I’m sorry.”

“Is ok.  You not see in dark?” it asked, sounding surprised.  “You not see like me?”

He shook his head.  “No, I can’t.  I mean I can see shadows but…well how well _do_  you see right now?”

“Dark for me is like day for you.  I not see so well in light like you not see in dark.”

“Oh…how long have you been coming in here and taking my books?” he asked, distracted from the storm.  It was now an obnoxious rumbling in the background, like Michael’s lectures or Gabriel’s snoring. 

“Since you have books.  I like story, I like read like you.  I not  _stealing_  books, I borrow.  Usually bring back.” It added sheepishly.

That explained at least a few library books that had disappeared.  Cas reached for the lamp again.  “I need just a little light.” Thank Heaven for three-way bulbs; he could have just enough light to see by without risking any wrath.  “This won’t bother you, will it?” With more light he could see brown shaggy hair and freckles.  The monster wore a ratty gray tank top and black pants that laced up the front.  It seemed kind of…harmless.  Weird, but harmless.

“It ok.” The monster smiled, showing a mouthful of pointed, sharp-looking teeth. 

Maybe ‘harmless’ was the wrong assumption.  “You live in my closet?”

It shook its head.  “Almost.  Closet door how I get in here.  Monsters live between spaces.  Shadows.  Almost-but-not-quite out of sight.”

Cas sat up a little in the bed.  Take off the horns and update the clothes, this guy-thing would fit in on the football team at school.  All…muscular and healthy-looking.  Except it was talking to  _him_ , like a normal conversation, which is way more than would ever happen with the guys on the team.  All they wanted from him were hand-jobs and silence.  “How long have you been almost-but-not-quite in my closet?”

It shrugged.  “Always there.  Try to live quiet, so not scare you.”

“But aren’t you a monster?”

It gave a rueful smile that cut Cas to the bone.  “I weird for monster.  Not like screaming, not like scares.  Want make friends instead but…I scare you, so I stay away.”

“Until tonight.” Cas couldn’t help but smirk.

“ _Thought_  you were sleep.” It replied, sticking out a tongue that was deep, deep red.  “Didn’t think you wake up for storm, you hate storm.”

“Which book were you going for?”

It—Deanon—got up, loping to the bookshelf.  Cas felt a little odd, watching this _thing_  cross the room and having the thought ‘nice ass’.  But if this was one of those weird dreams that he was seeing the therapist for, well then fuck it.  He would think ‘nice ass’ and roll with it.  In the time it had taken Cas to make himself ok with the strange turn of events, Deanon had returned from the shelf and put the book in his hands.  “This one.  It my favorite.” He said as he sat back down on the edge of the bed.

Cas leaned over to put the book under the scant light, and smiled at the title.  “Frankenstein, huh?”

Deanon nodded.  “It make monster smart for change.  It good book.  Although think maybe monster not so bad.  Doctor more monster than monster, you know?”

Weird, attractive, and could read: yep, clearly this was a moderately awesome dream.  Now if only Tom Hiddleston would climb in the window and profess his love.  “You’re right.  I mean the creation did some pretty awful stuff, but it was the doc’s fault.”

“Kreeyayshun?  Weird word.” Deanon said.  “But yes, Kree not do monster things if anyone just be nice to him.”

Cas smiled a little.  “Is that true for all monsters?”

Deanon shook his head.  “No.  Some monsters assholes.  Like screams, like scares, like to be mean.  Don’t get appeal of all that bad noise.  Music better.  Like plinky-plink.”

“Plinky-plink?” Cas frowned.

“You know, thing you play.  Black and white, go plinky-plink-plink when you touch it.”

So he  _hadn’t_  just ‘imagined’ hearing the piano tinkling in the dead of night!  “That?  Oh that’s called a  _piano_.” He smiled.  “It’s kind of a pain in the butt to play, but I guess you’re right, it does sound better than screams.”  Cas wriggled a little to get closer.  “Can I call you Dean?”

“But my name Deanon.”

“Well yes but…like Dean could be your nickname.  Like my name is Castiel, but you could call me Cas.” Cas said, feeling heat in his cheeks. 

“Oh.  I guess ok.” He shrugged.  “Who Nick and why he have extra name?”

Cas shook his head.  “Nickname isn’t a person, it’s something friends do for each other; give each other special names…we could be friends.” He touched Dean’s arm lightly.  It was cool, but felt as much like skin as his own. 

“Really?” the look of pure happiness on his face gave Cas a tingle deep in his belly.  Nobody’d ever seemed so happy about being friends with him.

“Really.” Cas swallowed.  “I think I’m dreaming, and if this is my dream then we’d be having sex.” He blurted out. 

“Well, is not dream-time, but sure we fuck.  I see what you look at on glow-box, I think know what you want.”

Cas felt his cheeks burn hot at the thought that anyone he’d talk to face-to-face knew his browser history.  He was so embarrassed he almost missed Dean’s next words.

“Owe you, after all.”

“Owe me?”

Dean nodded, looking down sheepishly.  “Sometimes I not bring book back…read too hard, break it.”

It was a relief to know he didn’t just  _lose_  books, but Dean getting his hands on and ‘breaking’ library books was going to have to stop.  “Well if it has that card on it,  _don’t_  take that book.  Those books aren’t mine.” Cas managed to scold even though his pulse was racing and his mouth was dry.  “I have to pay for those if I can’t give them back.”

Dean nodded.  “I sorry Cas.”  He put a hand on Cas’ chest.  “You go thump-thump-thump…I not scare you?”

The look of worry on his face was so intense; Cas’ arms were out to him before even Cas was fully conscious of it.  “I’m not scared Dean…I’m excited.” He bit his lip as Dean came into the proffered hug.  He smelled like old clothes and the cedar bags that were supposed to keep moths out of the closets.  But it was nice, putting arms around someone who didn’t pull away or criticize him for something.  Dean’s arms were going around him, nails  pricking slightly as they ran lightly over his clothes.  He squirmed.

“Cas smell good.”

Somehow Dean’s voice had gotten even lower, hitting Cas right in the dick and rumbling around.  He was suddenly so hard it  _hurt_.  “Dean…” he whimpered as the monster in his closet pushed him back against the pillows and smiled widely. 

“Cas smell  _real_  good.” He said, pulling Cas’ pajama bottoms down, nails grazing his thigh.  Staring at Cas with those hypnotic green eyes, Dean opened his mouth wide, tongue dropping free.  It was too long and a little slimy, and surprisingly strong as it wrapped around his cock. 

“D-D-D- _Dean_ —” he gasped as the tongue wound round and round his cock, slippery coils that started to writhe, stroking and squeezing him as Dean stared on.  Cas grabbed at the sheets, trying to keep his voice down as this bizarre blend between blow-and-hand-job carried on for what seemed like impossibly long minutes.  He could feel the orgasm building and couldn’t manage a warning.  Cas came with a hard jerk, watching as the tongue unwound and carried his load into Dean’s mouth.

The monster closed his eyes in apparent enjoyment.  “Cas taste real good too.” He rumbled.  “Make the light go…please?”

Cas nodded dumbly, reaching and knocking his alarm clock off the nightstand as he struggled to find the lamp without taking his eyes off Dean.  He thought he’d regret losing the light, but Dean’s eyes were brighter than before, and there was a sensation against his ass that made him think that Dean’s tongue was somehow there.  “Dean, what—”

“ _Shh_ …need wet.” The voice sounded like it was right by his ear, but Dean’s eyes were still in front of him.

Nodding again, Cas let his legs sprawl.  He closed his eyes and felt lips against his even as that cool, slimy tongue-feeling started to tease his ass.  Squirming, mewling, he suddenly felt surrounded by a dozen Deans, all of them kissing and licking and touching and exploring his body.  He couldn’t help but pant as the wet feeling crept deeper inside.  “Dean please,  _please_ —I need—I need you—” Cas wasn’t sure what to do with his hands.  He wanted to touch, to grab…but at the moment he wasn’t even sure where Dean  _was_.

That mystery was solved quickly as something much larger than the tongue pressed against his entrance.  “Dean?” he repeated, hating the quiver in his voice.

Hands slid up his sides and down his arms, coaxing them to wrap around something that felt solid and real.  Cas clung as the burn spread and he felt something sliding inside.  “Oh  _God_!” he couldn’t help it; the feeling was strange and foreign and frightening and wonderful all at once.  Nothing he’d read on the internet, no porn he’d ever watched in private had managed to detail this feeling!  It hurt but it didn’t, and all he wanted was more-more-more!

“Oh Dean, Dean,  _Dean_!” Cas whined, clinging to the darkness.  It was punishing, this slow in/out.  He wanted a  _fuck_ , he wanted a hard nasty dirty raw fuck!  This was too kind, too gentle, too wrong for him… “Dean, oh  _God_  Dean!” But he couldn’t get the words out. 

“Cas feel so good,  _so good_.” The whisper seemed to come from inside him.

“N-n-n-no—” Cas tried to deny, but he was distracted.  There was a feeling in him, something that seemed to be coming from his  _toes_ —something hot and bubbly and electric and he wasn’t sure if he was screaming out loud or just in his head but it didn’t matter because he was  _coming_ , oh  _God_  he was coming! 

Backed against the headboard, pillows pushed aside, Cas ran his hands down Dean’s back, pleased to not feel any spines or extra limbs or other weirdness.  He found the hips, thrilling at their motion.  “Dean-Dean-Dean- _Dean_!” he couldn’t seem to get anything else out.

“Cas-Cas-Cas- _Cas_ —” the last ‘Cas’ came out in a growl.

He felt something surprisingly hot splashing inside; it was the first time he’d thought about how it would feel to let someone come inside him.  It was _amazing_!  “Kiss me, kiss me please.” He felt pathetic begging for a kiss but for the time being Cas couldn’t control his words.

The kiss he got was deep and dangerous and took his breath away, sending him floating down a river that might have just been sleep.  What a  _great_ dream…


	2. Lunchtime

The next thing he heard was Gabriel banging on the bedroom door, bellowing something about school and breakfast. Cas sat up groggily, wincing at the full-body ache. The storm last night had certainly tensed him right up…but there was a nagging sense of wrongness, like his mind was unable to shake off a good dream. “I’m  _coming_  Gabriel shut up, God!” he called out, putting uneasy feet on the ground and standing. The blood ran to his head and he swayed…and felt a distinct trickle down his thigh. It all came rushing back—a boy-man-demon thing, green eyes,  _huge_  cock, kissing—he bit back a yelp.

  
"Whatever! Hey, next time you’re jerkin’ it, could you keep it down? I could hear you over the storm!"

  
"SHUT UP GABRIEL!" Cas shouted, throwing a pillow at the door. He heard Gabriel cackle and dash away from the door. Getting up a second time and shuffling around the room, Cas wondered where his closet-monster was. Probably asleep, if daytime was his nighttime. Thinking of that set him to wondering what it looked like; the in-between place where Dean lived. Imagining it took Cas all the way down the stairs and out the door before the dread of facing another soul-crushing day of highschool snapped him back to reality. Walking by himself, under a backpack that weighed fourteen tons if it weighed anything. He felt like Atlas; doomed and alone. That was another thing the therapist was supposed to be working out with him. If anyone had ever bothered to ask his opinion, he could’ve told them those three hours a week were a waste of fucking time. But no one ever really bothered to ask his opinion, probably for that very reason.

  
Lunchtime rolled around, allowing Cas to beat retreat to the library as was becoming the norm. He didn’t know how to campaign for friends like Michael and he wasn’t charming and embraceable like Gabe. He was just weird, loner, comfier-with-books-than-people Castiel. At this point he was just killing time in class until graduation, when the world would open up and he could get the hell out of this tiny-ass stupid-ass little town with its cliques and its money-smell and its stupid expectations that no real human being could live up to and be happy!

  
But until then, he’d hide in the library, at home with the dust and the book-smell and the perfect-place-to-avoid-everyone-factor. He settled way in the back of fiction, where the lights were almost always half-burnt out. No one—not even the librarian—would notice him lunching there. Cas opened his brownbag and sighed. Fucking tuna salad; he hated tuna salad! But at least there was a fruit cup and a juice barrel to go with it; he’d just survive on that until the last bell rang and he could go home.

"Psst. Psst.  _Pssssssst_.”

  
Cas startled, looking around for the flood of snakes that was clearly coming his way.

  
“ _Psssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssst_. Down here Cas. Next to Huck Finn.”

  
Setting his lunch aside, Cas reached cautiously for the shelf, pushing the leaning Twain volume aside. There and no bigger than a Ken doll, was Dean. With more light Cas could see he was barefoot. Something about those tiny little toes making tracks in the dust was very endearing. “Dean?  _What are you doing here?_ ”

  
"You go school, I go school. Easy; shadows like doors. Your bag-bag make nice shadow. Lots of stuff in it."

  
Well now he knew why his phone and his calculator batteries were always dying. “Have you always been doing this?”

  
Dean nodded, coming out of the shelf enough to sit down at the edge. He swung his feet, making tiny  _pock-pock_  noises as he drummed heels against the wood. “Want be smart like you.”

  
"I’m not smart." Cas said with a snort.

  
"Are so! You read all the books, make scratch-scratch on papers with pen. I try scratch-scratch, mostly just make mess."

  
And now he knew why his pens kept breaking. Cas reached out with a finger and touched the top of Dean’s head. “You’re obnoxious, you know that?” he rubbed a little; Dean’s hair was soft like rabbit fur. “You break my pens, run down my batteries…that is you, right?”

  
"Candy Crush fun." the little monster replied, leaning this way and that. He grumbled when Cas’ finger brushed a horn.

  
It didn’t seem like a noise of displeasure. Cas braved another grumble as he traced a curl with his nail; it didn’t feel like bone and it didn’t quite feel like fingernails. It was harder and smoother than any of that, at least between the ridges. But it must be something very live, because Dean was squirming and writhing like a cat in the middle of the best petting. Cas smiled. “I kind of like you this size. You’re very cute.”

  
"Easier to hide when small." he replied, turning his face towards Cas’ finger.

  
Cas thought he would kiss, but instead there was a painful prick. “ _Ow_!” He snatched his finger away, sucking a bead of blood away. It stung like a papercut but that little drop was the only blood in sight when he checked. Just as well, he didn’t have a bandaid.

  
Dean looked very ashamed. “Sorry. Good feels. Went to kiss like monster…sorry.”

  
Cas reached out with his unharmed hand and started to pet at Dean again. “No bites, ok?”

  
"Ok Cas." Dean sighed, leaning against his fingertip.

  
"So you’ve been coming to school with me every day? How come you’ve only just come out now?"

  
"Last night, you say we friends. I figure, ok to come out. Say hi. You by yourself, don’t have to be."

  
Cas smiled bitterly. “Yes I do. Nobody wants much to do with me if I’m not doing their homework or touching their dick.”

  
"You not touch my dick. I still here." Dean pointed out.

  
He couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Well we did that last night.”

  
"Still here though." Dean reached with both arms and grabbed Cas’ finger, hugging it against his cheek. "Cas is friend. Never have to be by yourself again if you want."

  
Something inside was dangerously close to breaking. Cas snatched his hand away and covered his eyes, trying to bite back a sob. He almost succeeded, except for a tiny peep. Something thumped against his shoulder, startling him. A book had come off the shelf…and there was twelve inches of Dean, watching him worriedly.

  
"I say bad thing, didn’t I? Sorry Cas, so sorry." He was making a pretty treacherous journey from the shelf to Cas shoulder, nearly slipping off. Cas caught him before he fell, but not before those strange nails put little holes in his shirt.

  
"No, no Dean…I’m just…sometimes I’m just sad. It wasn’t you, it wasn’t…" he settled Dean on his shoulder and felt the little monster nuzzling his jaw. "No I’m ok, really." Cas tried to sound firm, tried to jam the armor back on; weakness was intolerable on a thousand different levels.

  
Something rang in his ear, soft and vaguely comforting. It made him think of the birds Grandma Rose used to raise. It took him a minute to realize it was Dean trilling in his ear, still nuzzling against his skin. He smiled a little. “I’m ok Dean, really.” Cas said as he wrapped a hand around the little monster and pulled him off his shoulder. “Promise.” He added as he kissed Dean. When he pulled away, Dean was making an ugh-Grandma-kiss face. Cas laughed a little. “Sorry.”

  
"It ok. Big lips kinda weird. Now know why tongue made you wiggle." Dean replied.

  
Cas gave another little laugh and hugged Dean to his cheek. “Your tongue was great Dean. I like you the way you are.”

  
"You want I stay small-small?"

  
"No, no—I just meant…well your horns and your tongue and your glow-in-the-dark-eyes and your nails…you’re  _my_  little monster. Big or small.” He couldn’t help but kiss Dean again, almost dropping him when he squirmed. But Dean was laughing, a funny little rasping sound from his little mouth.

  
"Yep-yep. Bell go ‘dong’, time for more ugh-class?"

  
Cas nodded. “Yes Dean,  _ugh_ -class. You want help getting back in the backpack?”

  
"I can make happen." he said with a yawn.

  
"Oh you’re tired aren’t you? Oh Dean, you gotta tell me these things." Cas scolded, opening his bag and pushing binders aside to settle him in it.

  
"I ok." Dean replied, peeping up at him. "I stay up late all time."

  
Cas gave his head another little pet. “It’s just health class. You can sleep through that, I usually do.”

  
Dean nodded, waving as Cas started to zip the backpack shut.   
He hoped Dean wasn’t squished by anything shifting around as he got up. The warning bell rang; he’d have to eat the fruit cup on the run. That was kind of annoying…but it didn’t put a dent in his kind-of-okay mood. He had a friend, a friend just for him. It was a good day.


	3. Afternoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains allusions to rape, threat of rape, slurs, and surreal violence. The next chapter's fluffy though.

The day couldn’t end fast enough for Cas, but not for the usual reasons. Oh he was still bored cross-eyed with classes and anxiously dodging homophobes and closet-cases, but he could actually enjoy going home today; somebody would be there who would  _want_  to spend the time with him. Not to dump on  _all_  of his family; Gabriel—for all his obnoxious teasing— _was_  a decent brother. But he had an afterschool life that ate up most of his time that Cas just couldn’t find the appeal in. He supposed he was too weird even for the drama club. Not that it mattered; he had a Dean to spring!

  
At last the final bell rang and he could pick up his bag and go. No point stopping by the locker; any hatemail could be tossed in the trash tomorrow. Cas shouldered his bag, hoping again that Dean wasn’t getting squished, and practically sprinted from the classroom. He made a beeline for the main doors and cut a hard left; sure there was construction going on but it was a quiet route because of that. Plus it cut ten minutes off his walk home.

  
The construction was for some new housing development; Beigetopia or something stupid like that. Just another series of cookie-cutter houses with cookie-cutter people living cookie-cutter lives. The town had had a perfectly nice wooded area torn down and filled in to make it happen; it was so  _lame_ —

  
“ _Heeeeeeey_  fag!”

  
Cas froze. The long, nasal taunt…oh God, oh God, oh God it was Rodney Myer. The guy was a poster child for childhood sociopaths; pock-marked and held back so many times he was responsible for buying his sophomore classmates beer, Rodney was responsible for more than a few traumas Cas had buried deep in his head. Looking around was a stupid horror-movie tactic; instead Cas opted to barrel on, eyes peeled for a security guard or a construction worker or somebody who could throw up a wall of authority between him and the psycho.

  
"Got somethin’ for you to suck faaaaaaaaggot!"

  
Who the hell stopped work at three in the afternoon on a freaking weekday?! Who left a frigging development unattended during daylight hours? Hell, they probably even left the keys in the ignitions of all the machines!

  
Chest burning, legs already threatening to cramp, Cas trained his eyes on the far side of the construction site; if he could just get through there, get to a street with people on it, he’d be safe, he’d be safe!

  
Something hard and heavy slammed into the back of his head. Fireworks went off behind his eyelids and Cas fell hard. He scrabbled in the dirt, gasping and choking on dust and fear. The straps of his backpack bit into his chest and shoulders as it was ripped away and thrown back into his field of vision. “NO!” Cas screamed, visions of Rodney’s brutality now blending with horrible thoughts of Dean being crushed to death in the mayhem.

  
"Shut it faggot, shut your cock-sucking mouth." Hard fingers dug into his scalp, pulling a hank of hair free. "Gonna give you a facial."

  
Gagging now, Cas felt his pants grow hot and wet. It wouldn’t be the first time Rodney Myer had scared him in to pissing himself.   
"No, no, no, God please no—"

  
"Shut up faggot!" Rodney was dragging him across the dirt and rock and poorly policed construction material. "Oh yeah, gonna give your lil faggot face a  _nice_ wet facial!”

  
"Dean!" Cas managed to scream, realizing that this time? This time Rodney wasn’t going to hurt him with sex. Rodney was going to put him face-first in the concrete. Rodney was gonna _kill_  him! There was a small cement mixer next to a square block of dark grey doom. Cas could smell the almost tarry smell of fresh cement. He tried to pull away but all that did was make Rodney laugh.

  
"What’s wrong lil gay-boy? Thought you queers liked a  _hot_   **steaming**  load in your eye!”

  
Cas was still screaming for help. There was a flash of green inside the mouth of the cement mixer; but there were flashes of color all over his eyes, Cas wasn’t about count himself as saved. It would figure something awful would happen _just_  when he was feeling sort of okay about his life!

  
Another scream echoed through the deserted site, and Cas hit the ground for a second time. Head spinning, he couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing. Rodney seemed to be walking backwards against his will—there was actual terror in his face and for a moment Cas thought he saw black-nailed hands around the psycho’s ankles. A coughing fit seized Cas, sparing him the bizarre-and-violent sight of a six-foot-tall lunatic being yanked into maybe five cubic feet of space.

  
He might not have seen it happen but he heard it; it was a wet, sloppy, crunching symphony tinged with the heavy scent of copper. The screams stopped early on though, thankfully enough. “D-D-D-Dean…” Cas tried to raise up, but the adrenaline was draining away fast and he couldn’t think or see straight. For the third time that day, he ate dust.


	4. Late Night

Consciousness felt like a wet cloth swiping at his face. Cas startled, waking thoroughly confused. The sky over his head wasn’t sky, it was ceiling. His ceiling, with his actually-autographed ‘Smallville’ poster taped to it so Jensen Ackles’ hotness was the first ‘good morning’ greeting he got. “What?”

  
"Cas ok!" was the joyful reply, and Cas had to quickly turn his head to avoid getting a horn in the eye from Dean throwing himself into a hug.

  
"Yeah…yeah I’m ok…" Cas said slowly, putting a hesitant hand on Dean’s hair. It was still bunny-fur soft. He swallowed. "Dean, what did you  _do_?”

  
Dean sat up, giving Cas a very befuddled look. “I kill monster. He hurt you, I hurt him worse. What’s problem?”

  
"What?!" Cas sat up and promptly toppled over from a dizzy spell. "Dean you…you _killed_  him?!”

  
"Well yeah. I loyal monster; other monsters not allowed to scare-hurt you."

  
Closing his eyes, he sighed. “Dean that wasn’t a monster. I mean he was but not like you’re a monster…he was a human being.” It took a lot of restraint not to temper that last statement with an ‘ish’.

  
"But…he hurt you. Make you peepee pants. Make you bad-scared."

  
Cas felt a heavy hand on his head. He sighed. “He did.” Indignation was slipping away hard and fast; Rodney  _had_  been a monster and a terror and did things to the world around him that the legal system wasn’t supposed to tolerate. His parents had bought a lot of hush-ups and the fact that he was now just so much meat in a cement mixer was actually kind of awesome. “Dean, sometimes…sometimes people are just mean. Especially to me. You can’t kill them all.”

  
"I won’t. Just worst ones."

  
He had to smile; Dean had a confident sound in his voice that Cas had never figured out how to fake in his own. “Ok Dean.” Cas sighed. His body still hurt, and he’d probably never walk past that area again…but he was safer than he’d ever been before. There was still a small part of him that protested the violence, urged him to scold Dean more thoroughly, make him understand that you couldn’t do something like that and think it good. He drowned it out in the part of himself that nursed every needling, niggling, bleeding hurt that had been chipping away at him for the past seventeen years.

  
When that righteous part was thoroughly silenced, Cas drifted off to sleep.

  
It was late when he woke up, hungry and even more sore than before. Dean was nowhere to be seen, which was infinitely more disappointing than having missed dinner. “Dean?” Cas sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. “Dean?”

  
"Down here." A familiar black-clawed hand came out from under the bed and patted the bed.

  
Cas smiled, moving his leg out of reach. “What are you doing under there?” he shifted around to look over the edge of the bed, lifting the dust ruffle a little.

  
"You sleep. I go read, be quiet."

  
"I thought you lived in the closet."  
There was a snort. “Yes closet. But all shadows doors for monsters, remember?”

  
"Yes Dean, I remember." Cas let the dust ruffle go and got off the bed, sitting down on the floor. "What’s it like in the space where you live?"

  
"Cozy." Dean replied, hand now blindly searching for Cas along the floor. "You want come-n-see?"

  
"Can I?"

  
"Sure. Take hand, come-n-see."

  
Cas touched the back of Dean’s hand lightly. It tickled his fingertips when Dean’s hand turned over, but the giggly feeling disappeared when Dean’s hand clamped on his wrist hard. “Dean, it’s too—” he was headed face first for the dust-ruffle before he could protest. But instead of smacking into the floor or a lost shoe, Cas found himself zooming headfirst down what felt like a tunnel slide, landing with a bounce in a pile of.. _.socks_?!

  
"Socks?!" Cas started to laugh, picking one up.

  
"They soft." Dean replied, lower lip jutting out in a pout. He was lounging naked in the sock nest, ‘Frankenstein’ in one hand and a half-empty liter of Mountain Dew in the other.

  
And of course they were all lefties. “You’re right Dean, they’re very soft. And you’ve answered a very important age-old question.” Cas said with a smile, trying to crawl over to him. “So thank you for that.”

  
"No problem. Drink?" Dean thrust the bottle at him.

  
"I’m ok for now…" Cas looked around. It was like being in a den, low-ceiling’ed and dimly lit by dozens of nearly burnt-out nightlights. The socks were piled high in some places, standing in for pillows. There were pages from books, empty candy wrappers, and scratched CDs. He picked one up. "What’s this about?"

  
"Wanted Muzak. Used to be, you take circle, run nail on it, get music. Not now. Just make circle not work you do that." Dean replied with a sigh.

  
Cas wondered at how old he really was. “Well you’re probably talking about a record—vinyl. They have little grooves. This is a CD, it’s digital. You have to have a CD player to make it work. And electricity.”

  
"Oh eckletricity not problem here. Finding seedy player no one miss, that kind of hard. But can do." Dean closed the book, dog-earring the page.

  
The action made Cas wince, but he decided instead to focus on the thick fleshy cock resting on Dean’s thigh. It looked a little like a sea cucumber in its sleepy state. Cas blushed, thinking of the first night. “I can try to help you with that.” he said, wriggling across the sock nest to snuggle against Dean, trying to be casual in letting his hands wander.

  
"That nice. You nice Cas, good and nice." Dean replied, putting an arm around him.

  
"You too Dean." Cas murmured, trying not to shake as he happened to ‘casually’ brush the curls at the base of Dean’s cock. They were soft too—it was weird that Dean could have such soft hairs and such hard teeth and nails!

  
"You want monster fuck?" Dean asked.

  
Cas looked up a little to see him smirking. “Maybe I just want to touch.” he sassed.

  
"Careful. Monster not like buzz-buzz in Mom’s table. You get monster started, monster going to finish."

  
Temporarily distracted by the revelation that his mother might be a sexual being, Cas missed Dean’s hands sliding over his clothes and sliding them off. It wasn’t until those strange black nails were trailing lightly over his stomach that Cas tuned back in to the situation. “Dean…” He couldn’t help but laugh and squirm; his sides were so ticklish!

  
"Yes Cas?" Dean purred, nuzzling his face. It was different at full-size than shelf-size; Cas could feel a little burn the stubble scraped his skin. It made him shiver, goosebumps rising high on his skin.

  
“ _Oh Dean_ …” there had been something he wanted to do, something he wanted to say, but Cas couldn’t think of what it was for the life of him. The den was warm, the socks were soft, and Dean’s tongue was starting to slide against his skin. Cas couldn’t think of a better place to be in any other instant. As the cool wet feeling traveled down his chest and wrapped around his cock, the thought came back. “Wait, Dean wait—oh God that’s—please wait!”

  
Dean stopped, face confused and a little comedic with the long red tongue hanging out. “Huh?”

  
Cas smiled. “This feels great…but I was kinda hoping…to return the favor.” he turned bright red and hated himself for it. He knew how to grab cock, why was he getting shy now?

  
"Oh." Dean reeled the tongue back in, licking his lips. "Ok. Sound like fun for me." he settled back against the sock nest, wrapping a hand around himself and giving a short stroke.

  
It was amazing to watch his head pop out from that extra skin; like the world’s kinkiest magic trick. Cas licked his lips, shifting to his knees and sinking in the nest a little. He ran a finger down Dean’s length, marveling at the feel of it. There was a pulse beating visibly in a long dark line down the shaft. Cas traced it lightly with a nail and thrilled to see Dean’s eyes close slowly and a wide, cheek-splitting smile spread on his face. “This is amazing.” Cas murmured, still touching lightly. He started to curl his fingers around and was surprised to find his thumb and fingers couldn’t meet; it was so different from what he’d ever touched before. “It’s so…big.” he felt a little dumb saying it.

  
"Cas soft hands. Nice petting." Dean murmured, head tipped back.  
Cas licked his lips, leaning close and tentatively touching his tongue to the head. It…didn’t taste like anything. Well that wasn’t fair, it tasted like skin. Maybe fanfiction writers were exaggerating when they talked about salty/sweet/musty cock-taste. But it was pleasant, especially seeing Dean’s eyes flare brighter at the lick. “I’m sorry…I haven’t done this before for anybody, I um…I’m probably not good.” A surprise well of tears stung his eyes.

  
Dean cupped his face, sides of his thumbs touching the not-quite-tears and wiping them away. “Cas good. Cas soft and good and mine. All Cas touches is good.”

  
He closed his eyes and let Dean pull him close, melting into the embrace as Dean’s tongue trailed down his back and slid along his ass. Moaning as the tip slid in and wriggled around, Cas rocked his hips and reveled in the sensation. Dean’s stomach was smooth but for the happy trail and what a happy trail it was, tickling Cas’ cock as Dean’s tongue pushed deeper. “Oh  _Dean_ …” he sighed.

  
"My Cas." Dean replied as his hands slid over Cas’ back and hips, coaxing him into a more comfortable place.

  
Cas grit his teeth; even with Dean’s tonguing, it still burned a little when his cock went in; at least it wasn’t a surprise this time, given how thick it was. And because Dean was taking his time, Cas got to really feel every inch. With Dean’s help he sat up, letting out a deep gutteral groan as his ass came to rest fully against Dean’s pelvis. “ _Oh my God Dean,_  Dean I can’t—I can’t—oh Dean!” Cas cried out. His thighs shook and the sock nest was too soft and unreliable for him to plant his feet but it still felt like his ass was being pounded. “Dean, Dean, Dean  _oh God Dean!_ ”

  
The only answers were grunts and growls, the little den full of the sound of flesh-on-flesh slapping, fabric tearing, and panicked happy little cries. When Dean came it was with a roar that hurt his ears but that didn’t matter; the only two people in the universe who heard it were the only two people in the universe most interested in it.


	5. Early Morning

Cas opened his eyes and stretched, flexing his toes with satisfied pops.  He rubbed his eyes, wondering what time it was and more importantly, where was Dean.  He sat up, relishing the twinge in his lower back.  “Dean?”

“Huh?” It sounded like he was close by, but occupied.

Digging around the sock nest, Cas found something he hadn’t thought of in years.  The jack-o-lantern flashlight that had been his best companion for at least three Halloweens and a lot of storm-darkened evenings; it was smaller than he remembered it being, the light from it not as bright as he thought it should be.  Maybe it needed new batteries?  Not that it mattered; he just needed an extra little bit of light.  “Dean?” Cas repeated as he swung the light around the little den.  He dropped it when he found Dean, and promptly picked it up and trained it on his not-so-little-monster.

Dean was sitting away from him, legs sprawled, feet dug into the sock nest, clearly in the middle of something good.  That long red tongue was wrapped around his cock, coils slithering up and down the length.  He was breathing hard, nostrils flared, drooling down his chin.

“Holy  _fuck_ …” Cas breathed. 

There was a bright flash of green as Dean’s eyes opened.  “Ha.”

“Hi.” Cas whispered.  “Don’t stop.” He added, eyes torn between the green glow and the blushing head popping in and out of those slippery coils.

The writhing continued, and Dean grumbled deep in his throat.  Cas went to his hands and knees, awkwardly clambering over the nest, trying not to lose the flashlight in his travel.  He wanted to be closer,  _needed_  to be closer.  Hell, if he could manage, he wanted a mouthful of whatever came out of Dean when he came.  “Oh Dean this is  _so_  weirdly hot!”

Dean grunted, unwrapping a couple of coils, focusing his strokes just on the shaft.  He reached out, tracing Cas’ ear with a claw and then slid his hand to cup the back of Cas’ head and urge it down a little.

Shakily, Cas leaned in, daring another cautious lick.  This time there was a taste; something salty and a little bitter and hard to describe.  It made him think of the lemon scrub he used to keep his face clean, all tingly and cool.  It didn’t _taste_  like it, but that’s what he thought of.  He dared to lick again…and again…and again and again and again.  Every time a shiny little bead worked its way to the end, Cas licked it up.  He wished his mouth were bigger; he wished his tongue was longer.  Basically he wished he had Dean’s mouth because he wanted to be able to suck Dean’s big fat monster cock.

There was another growl, louder this time.  It rumbled around the den and suddenly Cas’ face was doused in hot, sticky, Dean.  But just as fast as his face was spattered, Dean was licking it away.  Cas moaned, losing the flashlight in favor of jerking himself.  It didn’t take any time for him to finish and he sort of pitched forward from the strength of his climax. 

Dean stroked his hair, pressing Cas’ cheek to his thigh.  “Sorry.  Try not to wake you, but saw you sleep, thought ‘I want fuck’.  Figure suck-off let you sleep and get me off.”

Cas nuzzled him.  “It’s ok.  You can wake me up Dean.” He kissed the skin.  “But that was hot, that was  _so_  hot.”  He sighed.

“Yep-yep.”

Somewhere in the distance, a buzzer sounded.  It took a minute for Cas to realize that somewhere outside this little den, his alarm clock was going off.  “ _Fuck_ …I don’t wanna leave.” He couldn’t help but whine.

“It ok Cas; your monster  _always_  with you.” Dean replied, still petting his hair.

Cas sighed, melting into sleep again, feeling very warm and very welcome in this strange little place.


	6. The Last Day

"You could stay-stay.  Here.  Forget ugh-class and stupid-Michael." Dean said as he followed Cas up the steep, shadowy slope that was supposed to be leading back to Cas' room.

"Dean, that's sweet...but I'm not a monster.  I need food and stuff."  Cas replied, sorely tempted by the prospect and tired of this seemingly endless climb. 

"I get food.  Food easy to get.  Stuff easy to get too; just take Forgot.  Forgot good stuff, find it everywhere."

Cas sighed, feeling Dean's hand on the small of his back.  He was _so_ tired!  "Dean..."

"Shhh, Cas.  Stay-stay."

The light above grew dim and the shadowy slope felt _so_ cold.  "Dean?"

"Stay-stay.  I take care.  Good care.  All your monster, right?"

Cas made a soft noise, closing his eyes and loosening his grip on the shadowy slope.  He was not aware of any real slide, only the shift from struggling against shadows to the warm embrace of piles of left socks and the real affection of _his_ monster.  Forever.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end is up to you. Did Cas die? Become a monster? Realize all of this was just a series of delusions promoted by a mental breakdown? 
> 
> Or are monsters real, and occasionally in love?


End file.
